


Luck of the Irish

by SeafoamSoul



Category: Professional Wrestling, World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-20
Updated: 2018-12-20
Packaged: 2019-09-23 09:29:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17077739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SeafoamSoul/pseuds/SeafoamSoul
Summary: Sheamus and Cesaro have beaten the Hardy Boys for the tag team titles and it's time to celebrate.





	Luck of the Irish

“Okay, these are the Hardys, so you two really need to be on your best behavior,” I scolded Sheamus and Cesaro.

“Yes ma’am,” Cesaro replied, giving me a little salute.

“Sheamus?” I turned to him, eyebrow quirked up in question.

“We have to win the belts, lass, I’ll do what I need to do,” Sheamus told me.

“Sheamus, you listen to me,” I began, ignoring Cesaro’s chuckle beside us. “These are the Hardys. They’ve been working together for like, ever. They know each other like the back of their own hands. You and Cesaro, you know I love you guys, but you two can be so volatile.” At Sheamus’s indignant opening of his mouth, I held up a hand to keep him quiet. “And I know you’re working on it, but sometimes you let your temper interfere with what’s happening in the ring.”

“It’s true,” Cesaro offered, turning to face Sheamus.

“Not helping,” I said, watching the way Sheamus’s eyes narrowed in Cesaro’s direction. “Sheamus, look at me.” I placed my hands on his shoulders, getting him to focus on me. “I love you, and I know you’re gonna go out there and kick ass and come back here with that shiny red belt. But for you to do that, I need you to promise me that you will keep that fiery temper at bay, okay?”

“But the titles!” Sheamus was obviously exasperated, his hands thrown into the air.

“You’ll get the titles. You just need to relax and trust yourself, trust Cesaro. He’s your partner for a reason, okay? Don’t let your anger get the best of you. Use it to your advantage, get those titles back. But don’t do anything rash.” I refused to let him get away until he agreed, until he understood what I was trying to say to him.

“Alright, lass. I understand,” Sheamus finally said, hands moving to my waist to pull me into him. He pressed one kiss to my forehead and another to my lips before Cesaro interrupted us.

“You two done here? We have a match to win.” He tried to look annoyed, but I could see the traces of a smile on his face, his lips turning upward.

“You have a match you better win,” I corrected him, giving Sheamus another quick kiss before finally stepping aside. “I’ll be right here waiting for you and your shiny new belt.”

I watched as Sheamus and Cesaro moved past me to gorilla, already deep in discussion about their match. Satisfied Sheamus had gotten the message and Cesaro would keep him in line, I went to find a monitor and a chair, settling down just before their music hit. I loved their entrance, loved that they finally found a way to work with each other rather than against each other. I could only hope that I could say the same during the match, fingers crossed that they could win and become tag team champions again.

=============================

“Oh my god,” I mumbled, watching as Sheamus covered Matt. The referee slid next to them on the matt, starting the count. I flinched after two, worried that Matt was going to kick out. When the referee’s hand hit the mat for the third time, however, I relaxed against the chair. They had done it. Sheamus and Cesaro had done it!

And then it really registered in my head. Sheamus and Cesaro had won the tag titles again. They had beaten the Hardys. Before I could stop myself, I was out of my seat, running down the hallway. I wanted to be waiting for them when they came through the curtain, waiting to celebrate with Sheamus.

By the time I had slid to a stop in the doorway, Sheamus and Cesaro had just stepped through the curtain. Everyone in the room broke out into applause as Sheamus and Cesaro talked to the Hardys, thanking them for an amazing match. When the crowd finally cleared away, I made my way towards the two men, jumping into Sheamus’s arms as soon as I was close enough.

“I’m so proud of you!” I squealed, wrapping my arms around him. “You did it! Thanks for keeping him in line, Cesaro,” I added, moving my head to look at Cesaro.

“No problem.” He waved me off with a smile before moving down the hallway, leaving Sheamus alone with me.

“I really am proud of you,” I told him, crushing our lips together. I forgot we were in a very busy area of backstage until someone awkwardly cleared their throat behind us. I pulled away from the kiss sheepishly, dropping from Sheamus’s hold.

“What do you say we go celebrate, huh?” he asked, leading me through the halls.

“What do you have in mind?” I replied, coming to a halt right outside the door to his locker room.

Sheamus turned to me over his shoulder, a cocky smile on his lips and I couldn’t help but to smile back. Cocky Sheamus was one of my favorite versions of him. When he’s so caught up in himself, in his accomplishments, it’s interesting to say the least. And it always ends well, with both of us insanely happy with the day’s events.

“I think you know,” he replied, mischievous glint in his eyes as his fingers mindlessly tapped against the red belt secured around his waist.

“I’m not too sure I do,” I goaded, twisting the doorknob to his locker room. “So I think you better show me.” And then I slipped through the door, letting it close behind me.

The door had barely settled itself into the frame before it was ripped open, Sheamus tearing into the room. I bit my lip at the look on his face, cocky and proud, his steps a little more confident than usual. He stepped right up to me, one of his arms wrapping around my waist to pull me into his chest. The edges of his title belt were digging into the skin of my stomach through the thin material of my dress but I wasn’t focused on that. Rather, I was entranced by the way Sheamus’s eyes darkened just slightly, cocky smirk firmly in place on his lips. The hand wrapped around my waist dropped further down to my ass, pulling my hips further into his, palm kneading the flesh in his hand.

“You said something about a celebration,” I reminded him, pushing my ass back against his hand.

The only answer I got was his smirk widening before Sheamus pulled along with him as he stepped back. He sat back against the couch in the middle of the room, leaving me to straddle his lap.

“Then let’s get to celebrating,” he muttered against my lips before finally pressing his lips to mine. There was nothing slow and sweet about this kiss. It was passionate, desperate, as I molded myself even closer to Sheamus. His hands were on my waist, keeping me anchored against him as our tongues met and I groaned into the kiss, grinding my hips against his.

Sheamus pulled away, trailing kisses to my neck instead, teeth nipping lightly against the delicate skin there. My head fell back, eyes closed as he worked, but they shot open when he moved one of his hands around to my inner thigh, tracing lightly against my skin. I let out a whine as his fingers moved further up my thigh, just barely brushing the lace edge of my underwear.

“Sheamus, please,” I whined, arching my hips into his touch.

At that, he moved his mouth from my neck, leaning back to let his eyes focus on my face. I knew I was flushed, knew my lips were bruised and my eyes shining. And Sheamus seemed to like it, seemed to like knowing that he was the one who made me look so blissed out, because his cocky smirk returned and he slid two fingers under my underwear, brushing my entrance lightly.

My hips jerked towards him when his fingers settled on my clit, just briefly, before sliding into my entrance completely, hooking his fingers up into me. Sheamus’s free hand tightened on my hips, trying to keep me steady. I whined in response, trying desperately to move my hips against him.

“Shh,” he cooed, pumping his fingers into me steadily. He focused on trailing kisses across my neck at the same time he moved his thumb to my clit, rubbing circles against me.

“Sheamus,” I moaned, grinding against his fingers. The familiar heat was building in my stomach as he kept up his harsh pace, and I felt my muscles clench around his fingers, signalling how close I was. And then his fingers were gone. I opened my mouth to protest, to beg, to do something, but before I could get my brain to work, to find the right words to say, Sheamus had torn my underwear from my legs and managed to slide his trunks down his thighs just far enough to free his cock.

Both of his hands fell back to my hips, pulling the skirt of my dress up and holding it there as he moved me closer to him, the head of his cock brushing against my entrance, teasing me. His eyes still held the mischievous glow from earlier, pride evident on his face as I whined, silently begging for him to finally move.

Finally, Sheamus put an end to his teasing as he lifted me up just slightly, sliding me down his length. When our hips were flush against each other, my muscles fluttered around him, the head of his cock pressed against my G-spot.

And then I was riding Sheamus shamelessly, the cool metal of his title belt still around his waist pressed against my skin. His hands helped my movements along and he kept that damn smirk on his face, muttering something in my ear constantly about how great he was, about what that title meant. And I was eating it up, moans filling the air. Sheamus’s grip on my hips tightened, shifting the angle of his thrusts just a bit, until I was seeing stars behind my eyelids.

“Oh my god, Sheamus,” I cried, riding him faster. I could feel myself close to coming again, intent on making it this time, refusing to let him stop me.

I heard Sheamus growl in my ear as one of his hands moved back to my clit, fingers rubbing harshly against me. And then I was coming, hard, around him. None of the words that fell from my lips made any sense, all nonsense sounds and moans as his hands gripped my hips even tighter. Faintly, in the back of my mind, I knew that I would have bruises littering my hips tomorrow. But none of that mattered as Sheamus buried his face in my neck as he came, hips stuttering against mine.

His breathing was harsh in the hollow of my neck, my hands busying themselves in his hair as he came down from his high. Finally, he pulled back, eyes meeting mine. And they were back to being soft, loving. All signs of Cocky Sheamus were gone as his hands moved to cup my cheeks, bringing my face forward so he could press a kiss to my forehead.

“I love you,” he whispered against my skin.

“I love you, too,” I assured him. “Love that nice belt around your waist, too.”


End file.
